


One Hand Down the Cat's Pajamas

by zetsubonna



Series: All American Bicycle [13]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Dom/sub Undertones, Hand Jobs, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Service Top, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 02:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4417151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetsubonna/pseuds/zetsubonna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LittleHornet requested: haha okay so i love pet play with gentle!dom and lazy!sub pet dynamics. which i really love with steve understanding that sometimes bucky needs this subspace and bucky being comfortable enough to be vulnerable with steve and just lie on top of him and be petted and have his hair stroked (and then bucky starts getting hard and gets off humping steve's leg oh my god)</p><p>Z says: That's not precisely how this turned out, but I'm pleased with it anyhow. XD</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Hand Down the Cat's Pajamas

He wasn’t sure what to call it at first, but the way Bucky was these days when he was wanting to cuddle reminded Steve of that godforsaken alleycat back in DUMBO. There was more than one, if he thought about it. Steve thought of himself as a sucker for a hard luck story, but Bucky had always been worse. The rougher those cats looked, the more of Bucky’s lunch pail would come back home with him after a day at the garage, and the longer he’d take to come back up to the flat, since he was down in a crouch feeding them everything he figured they could safely eat, either in rinsed out tuna cans or, if he could make it happen, from the tips of his fingers.

“Starting to remind me of your cats,” Steve muttered without thinking.

“Three-legged, shifty-eyed little fucker who tries to eat cigarette butts and sleep in a dryer vent?” Bucky drawled as he finished climbing into the window. “Sounds about right.”

Some of the tension went out of Steve. He liked it when Bucky made jokes. It was so rare, now, rare as hen’s teeth, as blue moons. Bucky bumped Steve’s bicep with his own and dipped into the bathroom, and the shower started a minute later.

He caught Bucky out in the alley again later, talking to the cats. Not in words, but mewing at them, loud and confident, and the cats were responding in kind, with the exception of a battered old tabby queen who was rubbing on his ankles affectionately.

“You found your people, huh, Buck?”

Bucky gave him a sidelong look and lowered his voice. There was something distinctly sarcastic about his next yowl, and the battered queen looked up at Steve derisively before plonking her butt down and starting to groom herself with her paw.

“Her majesty ain’t impressed with you,” Bucky informed Steve.

“I can tell,” Steve noted. “Come back up. Dinner’s ready.”

“Better not be boiled,” Bucky muttered, starting to climb the fire escape. Steve rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

* * *

Steve was sitting on the couch and Bucky came, sat at his feet. Steve glanced at him, but Bucky was poking at his phone and didn’t look at him, so Steve went back to his book until Bucky huffed quietly and crawled up on the couch, putting his head on Steve’s thigh.

“What?” Steve asked.

Bucky didn’t reply, aside from taking Steve’s page-turning hand and putting it on his head before going back to his phone. Idly, Steve stroked and ran his fingers through Bucky’s hair. Eventually, he heard a soft click, and Bucky rolled over, nuzzled into Steve’s belly, and went to sleep. Steve wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to react to this, as it was new. Well- new for now. It had been normal, back in DUMBO.

When Steve attempted to gently remove Bucky’s head from his lap so he could go take a leak, though, Bucky glared at him in irritable betrayal before slinking off to the kitchen. Even when Steve returned to the couch, Bucky did not.

* * *

 

The next time Bucky decided to nap with his face in Steve’s belly, Sam showed up in the middle of his nap. Bucky _must_ have heard the bell, but didn’t move, and Steve frantically texted Sam.

 _Buck’s napping on me, can’t get up. Use your key_.

Sam raised both eyebrows at them when he was coming into the room. Bucky lifted his head, noted, bleary eyed, that it was Sam, and immediately got up from the couch, wandering over and putting his head on Sam’s shoulder.

“Why didn’t you get up to let me in?” Sam asked.

Bucky shrugged and didn’t respond, pawing at Sam’s hand instead. After snagging the pack of miniature powdered sugar doughnuts, he shoved the bag back into Sam’s hand and wandered away into the kitchen.

“Is this a thing he’s doing now?” Sam asked Steve.

“Apparently,” Steve said, shrugging.

Sam moved to sit down on the sofa and Steve shook his head in the negative. “Go hit the head first,” he said. “Buck gets real mad if you make him move once he’s comfortable.”

Sam rolled his eyes, leaving the bag on the coffee table, but headed for the bathroom anyway.

* * *

“Sam asked me if this was a thing you were doing now,” Steve informed Bucky as Bucky took the book out of his hand and put it to the side.

“Yup,” Bucky agreed, settling on the couch and putting his head in Steve’s lap, then pulling Steve’s hand down to his head.

“You could at least verbalize,” Steve complained, starting to comb his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

“Nope,” Bucky disagreed. He kissed the bottom of Steve’s belly and then fell still, closing his eyes and letting his lips rest in a slight curve that Steve recognized as his new smile.

They sat like that, Bucky’s head in Steve’s lap, Steve’s hand carding through Bucky’s soft, freshly washed hair, for such a long time that Steve’s eyes started to drift closed and his head tipped back against the back of the couch. Bucky made a soft, exasperated sound and began squirming his body more into Steve’s lap, until Steve shook himself slightly to try and wake up, blinking blearily down at Bucky.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, as Bucky’s ass situated itself between his thighs.

Bucky glanced at him, smirking faintly, and slipped his right arm around Steve’s neck, leaning in to the other side and starting to nibble and suck softly, grazing the skin with his teeth.

“Ain’t you supposed to be working on being more verbal?” Steve protested weakly, to which Bucky responded by catching Steve’s nipple in his first two fingers and giving it a mild pinch, but when Steve gasped and his hips jerked, the pinch got harder as Bucky started grinning and sucked the side of Steve’s neck until he could bite down on it. “Christ, Buck-”

Bucky’s left hand dragged Steve’s right into his lap.

“I ain’t jerking off my cat,” Steve protested, and Bucky growled softly. “I ain’t! Ooh, ooh, Bucky, don’t-”

Bucky sucked a threatening wet patch into Steve’s shirt, right over his nipple, digging into Steve’s shoulder with the tips of his fingers.

“S’rid- ridiculous,” Steve panted. “Don’t be ridiculous, Buck-”

“Ain’t asking,” Bucky warned, nudging Steve’s wet shirt with the tip of his nose. “Want me to get up?”

“No,” Steve said quickly, groaning when Bucky pushed his hips up, his cock more than half-hard under Steve’s loose hand. “Jesus. This is what you want?”

“Mhm,” Bucky said, grinning as he let his teeth slowly clamp down over Steve’s nipple, humming in his throat when Steve’s shaky hand curled around his cock through his baggy jeans.

“S’all you want?” Steve repeated, licking his lips. “You don’t wanna go fool around in the bedroom, you don’t want a suckjob-”

“Sh’up,” Bucky warned, tugging Steve’s nipple through his shirt. “Ruining it.”

“Don’t wanna think about it too hard, I guess,” Steve reasoned aloud, fumbling to get Bucky’s fly open with one hand. Bucky hissed when Steve’s hand slid into the fabric of his underwear and actually found skin, grinding his hips upward and nuzzling into the side of his neck. “Jesus. How’d you get so hard so fast?”

Bucky ignored the question in favor of flexing his fingers in Steve’s skin, slow and shallow, and Steve’s thoughts eventually clicked over.

“Are you _kneading_ me?” he asked, laughing huskily, his face pink. “That ain’t- Buck, that’s several different kinds of fucked up.”

Bucky slid back a little, like he was thinking of getting up, and Steve clamped his mouth shut. Bucky nodded and went back to kneading and chewing contentedly on Steve’s nipple through his shirt as Steve’s fingers worked his cock, his baggy jeans starting to slide down his hips from his constant wriggling.

“How’d I end up with such a handsome fella?” Steve asked, soft and adoring like Bucky used to like.

“Pretty,” Bucky corrected, smacking his lips.

“Pretty?” Steve tried. “Want me to tell you you’re a pretty kitty, huh?”

“Ain’t I?” Bucky asked, digging his fingers hard into Steve’s chest.

“Course you are,” Steve panted softly, the hand not working Bucky’s cock coming up to support him under his chest, cradling him in Steve’s lap. “How’d I get such a pretty kitty? That good, Buck?”

Bucky hummed his approval, content, his eyes slipping mostly closed, lips curled in a smirk.

“Always had you figured for more of a puppy before,” Steve confessed quietly, rubbing his thumb across the head of Bucky’s cock. “Big. Protective.”

“Sometimes,” Bucky conceded, before taking Steve’s wet shirt and nipple into his teeth and rolling his jaw from side to side, pleased at Steve’s overwhelmed moan. “Not today. More chatter. N’loosen up a little bit, ain’t even spit on your hand.”

“Sorry,” Steve apologized immediately, adjusting his grip on Bucky’s cock, his other hand sliding up Bucky’s back to scratch his scalp and ruffle his hair. “You’re a good kitty, Buck. So pretty. Real clever, too. Ain’t I lucky you’re mine?”

“Faster,” Bucky said, pushing his hips toward Steve’s hand. “N’don’t quit the chatter.”

“Good boy,” Steve repeated as Bucky rubbed his cheek on Steve’s wet shirt and pushed his hips toward Steve’s hand. “Pretty kitty. Gonna start bringing me mice or birds, Buck?”

“Already got Sam,” Bucky retorted, his breathing getting heavier as Steve stroked his cock. “N’I catch _rats_.”

“Big, ugly, Hydra rats,” Steve agreed. “Damn pests. You’re a good hunter, though. Keep ‘em from getting in every place.”

“C’mon,” Bucky urged, wrapping both arms around Steve’s middle and burying his face in Steve’s chest. “C’mon, c’mon.”

“C’mon, pretty kitty,” Steve tried softly, petting Bucky’s hair with one hand and squeezing his dick a little with the other as he stroked it. “C’mon, that’s my pretty boy. C’mon, big guy. You’re so soft. Such a sweet fella. Kinda treat you want today? Want me to brush your hair, maybe? Or you want something in your mouth?” He paused, biting back a chuckle, grateful Sam wasn’t around to hear. “Some warm milk, maybe. Might give it to you, since you’re so pretty.”

Bucky laughed, just once, brief and needy, but Steve would take it.

“Mm, maybe you can show off for me a little, after you come? Show me how clean you are, since you been washing yourself all day,” Steve sighed, scratching at Bucky’s scalp as he squeezed his cock again and Bucky started to make soft noises like he was close. “Put your hands on the table, maybe? Knees on the couch? Tail in my face? Gimme a nice stretch? Might kiss it, if you show it to me.”

“Fuck,” Bucky panted. “Jesus _fuck_ , yeah. _Yeah_.”

“Listen to that purr,” Steve said, smiling a little wider. “You just want my tongue in all the spots you can’t reach, huh, Buck? Want me to lick you, huh?”

“ _Fuck_.” Bucky squeezed Steve’s hand around his cock, his eyes tightly closed. “Yeah, _yeah_ , nn, Stevie, _Stevie-_ ”

Steve leaned back against the couch a moment later, licking Bucky’s come from his fingers. “You really want it, go on and get up on the table,” he prompted.

“Later,” Bucky said, coiling around Steve’s waist. “Later. God _damn_. S’good.”

“Should I share this information with Sam?” Steve asked him, ruffling Bucky’s hair with his clean hand. “You gonna want him to take care of you? Way you keep rubbing on him.”

“I’ll tell him when I’m good n’ ready,” Bucky retorted, yawning. “Shut up. It’s my naptime.”

“What if I gotta pee?” Steve demanded.

“You can hold it,” Bucky informed him. “Kitty on your lap. You’re still now. Shh.”

“Uh huh,” Steve noted. “Okay. Enjoy your nap, you spoiled little furball.”

Bucky grinned and burrowed his face into Steve’s shirt.


End file.
